


Then, Now, and Then

by dramady, jeck



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Derek, it's the past. For John, it's the future. For both of them, it's now.<br/>A/N: uncle-cest; we play with a few things, twisting them just <i>so</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then, Now, and Then

  
Derek isn't an idiot. He's not a dumb fuck. He knows John's blood runs in his veins. John mentioned it all the time. Okay, sure he thought it was a joke. You know? One of those things that lovers say when they have just made love and were still sweaty and warm cuddling under the sheets. Not that Derek cuddled. Well, _much_.

Now in his distant past that is this time's future, he watches John at 15 from across the room, thinking about that blood that's inside him, pumping within his heart. _John's_. It always makes one side of his lips lift up in a half-smile as he watches him, carefully. They walk the same, talk the same only that face--so much younger with a hint of innocence around the edges. It is, he finds, enchanting watching a younger John.

-

_It was when Derek finally found Kyle again when he first met John. He was spewing out techno-babble about the machines. Details that Derek didn't much care for, really. All he wanted was to kill those metal motherfuckers. But he found himself staring at John as he talked, smiled, laughed, got serious and angry too. All those emotions manifesting themselves so openly on his face. Derek thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen that all he could do was stare with that stupid half-smile on his face. Such a dork._

"Everything okay, Reese?" John asked, watching him out of the corner of his eye. "You sick or something?" As he asked, a smile of his own was bitten back. Not that there was a whole hell of a lot to smile about. A whole hell of a lot to feel anything but despair and rage about. "Eat bad clams?" Now, that_ was a joke. Clams. He chuckled._

"Eveything's cool, Connor." He smirked at the joke but warmed at the look on John's face. "You got some hankering for clams? I might have a can of them somewhere." Yeah. Dinner date? Wanna? Fuck. Derek could not be thinking about shit like this when there was a war going on right outside. The offer was genuine though. Much as he liked hanging out with his little brother, he thought it would be nice to get to know this Connor kid, too. You know, for tactical purposes, of course.

"You have clams?" John looked up and over at the soldier, the brother of the man he'd bunked with in the work camp. The one who was taller and stronger and faster, who knew how to kill in too many different ways. The man with whom he had a connection that no one else could know about. "It's a deal. I think I have a beer or two. I'll bring them." He needed to work. He needed to go over the schematic to figure out what went wrong so it wouldn't again. He needed to quit staring_._

"Need to go over stuff with you anyway. My men found another route in the tunnels." Yeah. Strictly business. Derek stood up and gestured toward the entry (or specifically, blown up hole in the wall). "Wanna just meet me in my bunk?" God, his cock twitched. Why the fuck would it do that now? Damn it.

"Yeah. Give me ten." Giving Derek one more look, John headed back to his office, to that stash in the far corner where he kept his booze.

He found the clams. They were preserved in brine. They'd probably taste disgusting. Not exactly a date kinda thing to offer. Not that he though this a date. Damn it. Why was he thinking this way? He pulled out one of the larger vienna sausage cans he'd been keeping for special occasions. Never did it occur to Derek that his actions were all to impress. He even straightened up the little space he called home. His room with a view. A dark corner all the way at the end of one of the tunnels with a small drain all the way up high on the ceiling. A sheet covered the entry serving as a door. He sat on his cot that creaked when he moved and Derek waited.

Eight minutes later, John pushed the curtain aside and from his place at the 'door,' he looked, unable, quite, to keep the smile from his face. "I like what you've done with the place," he joked. "It's homey." He didn't move. One of the small concessions to human civilization. He'd wait to be invited in.

"Hey." He said this like he was surprised John was there. Derek's smile, not that easy to come by, graced his face and returned John's. "Come in. Sit down." He patted the space next to him, his heart thumping just at this mere presence. God. "You like it huh? Yeah," he furrowed his brows and pretended to look around, pursing his lips. "Could use a bit of color to brighten the place but it'll do." The smile grew.

"Curtains maybe, a little bit of paint'd do wonders." Chuckling, John walked in and over toward Derek. He liked that smile; he liked that smile a lot. "In your free time, when you're not offering people clams, you can see what you can find." He plonked down next to the other man and held out the beer. "Can't vouch for the freshness, but." And as Derek reached for the beer, John put his hand around his neck and pulled him close.

The kiss was awkward, rough. Two men more used to fighting than anything like this. But after a moment, it settled in; they found their place. Beer and clams forgotten, they concentrated on tasting each other's mouths.

Whoa. Derek did not expect to be kissed. This was, well, shocking that he stiffened soon as John's lips were on his. But as soon as John moved his lips, Derek could no longer resist. He took over, groaning and then reaching to cup his hand at the nape of John's neck.

They were on his bed. They were kissing. Nothing else mattered suddenly. Just this. So Derek carefully pushed John to lay on his bed, a hand still clasped behind his head, and then he was laying over him. Warm. God. So warm. And still, they were kissing. It had been so long since Derek had kissed anyone. He had no plans of stopping at all right now.

-

Looking up from his computer because he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, John finds his uncle staring at him. A glance to his left and right assure him that Derek's not looking at something else. "Is... everything okay?" He asks. The look on Derek's face is intimate. For some reason it makes him blush; it reminds him of what he shouldn't be feeling.

He gives his head a shake and then Derek grins sheepishly as he looks down at his hands. "Nothing." A breath and then he looks up at John. God. Still so much like the John he left behind. "Just--I feel like I know you so well but then, here, now, I really _don't_ know you." That's already saying too much. Derek leaves it at that.

What? Okay. That's weird. Watching him with furrowed brow, John shrugs. "Uh... What do you want to know?" he asks, almost hesitantly. His uncle's a hard-ass. He doesn't smile much. And he's smiling. It's definitely enough to unnerve him and have him hunching lower in his chair.

_What does he want to know?_ Well. Derek wants to know if John tasted the same at thirty as he did at fifteen. He wants to know if he would react the same when he touched him, followed each angle and sinew of that much younger body. Would he whimper sound the same if he kissed him right behind the ear? Would he shudder if he slid his hand down that belly until he could wrap a large hand around his cock? Would he tilt his face up for a kiss right after he came with Derek still buried deep inside him?

All these things Derek wants to know. And maybe his eyes show it, too. At this point he doesn't care. John is his in the future. What difference would it make if they start out a lot earlier than when they first met?

"I want to know," Derek stands up, grabbing John's chair and he turns it until they are face to face, Derek leaning in and locking John in that chair with both his hands on each arm. "what you'd do..." Closer. Closer. Until their noses brush. "...if I did this--" And then Derek kisses him.

-

_It wasn't easy on a creaky metal bunk to do what they did, but they did it, bodies moving together, learning how to move with each other, learning where to touch, sounds muffled, bitten back to keep from alerting anyone that their almighty leader was taking it up the ass with one of his most trusted soldiers. On their sides, Derek spooned around John's leaner body, John reached back, fingers digging into the taut meat of Derek's ass to pull him tighter still, even though their hips were flush, still shuddering, feeling the fissures of yet-undissolved pleasure. "Nobody can know," John said, unnecessarily, his cheeks heating even as he said it._

Turning his head, he looked back at Derek's face, his eyes uncharacteristically soft in silent apology and then he leaned his head back, feeling Derek's shoulder as he turned, pressing his lips against Derek's.

-

John jerks away, eyes wide and round, instinctively running his tongue along his lower lip. It tastes like salt and something darker. "What-- why-- Why'd you _do_ that?"

Derek shrugs one shoulder with a thought that pops in his head about answering the loaded question earlier. John wants to know, too, apparently. "I remember a time when it was you who first kissed me." The telltale lopsided smile makes its way out. "I wanted to know what it would feel like if I'd be the one who did it first." Derek feels compelled to do the only thing he feels is the right thing to do. Derek kisses John again. Because those lips feel the same. Because he tastes exactly the same. Because they are each other's and no amount of time between past and future can change that.

For a moment, John can't even think. All he can do is _be kissed_, by his _uncle_. And it tastes like he thought it would. But wait? What? Shoving Derek back again, he frowns. "What do you mean, I kissed you first?" That makes no sense! "Derek... what do you mean?"

"It's years and years from now. And I 'm not even sure if in this future it'll still happen. We've changed the timeline. You were brought 4 years forward. I was sent back. _You_ sent me back." A frown creases Derek's face. It's not the best way that he and John parted. "Things could be different in this future." He doesn't want to think of that because kissing John, here, now, at fifteen only reminded him of what he'd left behind. Of what Derek wanted to come back to.

"You didn't answer my question." John stares, talking slowly. Getting up, he goes over to shut his bedroom door firmly-- God! It'd been open before! That thought alone chills him. Looking young, _feeling_ young, he crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you-- I mean-- we were... in the future?"

Derek nods, eyes anchored to John. "Yeah."

Eyes wide, shock painting his face, John stares. "How long?"

"A year." Derek does not take his eyes off of John. He takes slow steps toward him. Slow. Don't scare him away. "Off and on." And that was because of the war. Because they both had different roles to play. "Don't look too shocked." A smirk. "You started it."

"I--" John blinks. "Did I--" God. Of all the things he'd learned about his future self, this is by far the most insane. He must have known--will know-- that Derek was his uncle! And, well, not to mention the gay thing. God. It's... _a lot_ to take in. He staggers with it even as Derek gets close enough to catch him, hands on his shoulders, steadying him, holding him up. It's comforting in a way he doesn't entirely understand.

-

_John staggered back against the wall, just avoiding the mortared hole in the wall, dust and debris flying. He was pulled back further, feeling strong arms carry him up and out of the way. Without even looking, he knew it was Derek. Of course it was. Who else would it be?_

"You have a death wish." This was said sternly but there was a deep concern lacing his voice. "You don't rush in like that. Ever." God. That shit of a stunt scared Derek half to death. John's fire sometimes... He didn't even want to finish that thought. When they were a way's away from danger, Derek put him back down in a dark corner. "Don't fucking do that again." And then he kissed him, pinning him to the wall, Derek's body covering John's completely.

-

"I started it," John whispers, still stunned. "And I sent you away? Why? Did I--" Stopping himself, he blushes, unable to imagine himself taking that kind of initiative, no matter how he feels. He can't ask that. Maybe he doesn't even want to know, not really. What kind of man is he that he'd send someone away that he...

But he sent his father back. And a truly frightening idea strikes him. in the future, does he send away everyone he was close to? What kind of man does he become? The thought terrifies him.

Derek sees the change in John's expression. He can only guess what put it there. It's the same look he had on his face right before the mask fell and he spoke like the leader that he was back where he came from in the future. "You sent Kyle home because you had to. Or you wouldn't have been born." Derek takes a deep breath and continues. "I think you sent me back because you trusted me to get things done." _And because things were getting complicated. Deeper. The fate of humanity rested on you and I was the hindrance, the distraction that could stop you from doing what you had to do_. Obviously Derek keeps that to himself. Since he arrived here with nothing but the skin on his bones, he's thought of nothing else but John and his reasons for sending Derek back. It hurts him. But Derek understands.

"Did you--" John clears his throat, looking up at Derek through the fringe of his bangs. "Was it--" He ducks again. "Love?" It's out there now and he can't take it back, shifting from foot to foot, hands getting stuffed in his pockets. He asks his shoes, "Did we love each other?"

_Nobody can know_. John's words seem to echo in his head. He can still hear it. Can still see the look in his face right after he says it. "Yes." Without a doubt. Unequivocally. Yes. Derek knew this. John knew it. Even if they both didn't admit it. There was a war going on. There was no time for trivial things like romance.

-

_Derek was sent on a mission. A pretty dangerous one at that. They had been successful in finding one of Skynet's armories. They had destroyed it. It was a small victory that paid a high price. They lost four men that night. Now in his bunk he laid there in the dark. Going over what had happened. On rewind in his head. Over and over he kept thinking of what went wrong, of what he could have done differently to not have lost these men._

There was shuffling, someone entering the room. Derek did not have to ask, or even look. He knew who it was--John.

He waited until he felt the bed give with the weight and that was when he moved, reaching out and wrapping an arm on the man slowly laying down next to him. He was warm. And Derek right now needed that warmth--needed John.

John could feel Derek's stubble against his cheek, even as, in the dark, his hand wandered down Derek's body, checking for injuries, blood, vagaries of war. "You did well," John whispered, sure, voice strong, even if soft. "Things happen. There are going to be sacrifices. You did well." He spoke as leader, but his touch was that of a lover who'd had acid eating at his gut the whole time Derek was away. The acid, he knew, was a bad sign. It made him weak. He couldn't be weak, not right now. Not ever, to be honest. This, Sarah had taught him early. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

Derek nuzzled against the side of John's face, kissing his temple, his cheek, lips then seek lips and then they were kissing. This--THIS was the reason he always made it back alive. Knowing that John was there, waiting, maybe even afraid for him. But they never did talk about that stuff. There was never a need to. A lot of things that went on between them remain unsaid. There was never time to talk about feelings and things. They lived for the here and now. In this war, they had nothing but the here and now. I love you_, the kiss said, and his touch, a gentle but calloused hand cupping John's cheek. _I will always come back to you...__

I love you. That's why I'll send you back_. John knew this as he touched and was touched. Gentleness like this didn't have a place in this new world. Except that it kept them human. He was aware of the contradiction in his thoughts. But soon, he wasn't thinking at all as he felt himself breached._

-

John stares at Derek, eyes wide, his brow knitted together in concentration, not unlike how he'd look in the future. Derek, he realizes, has to look the same in the future as he does now. It's John that looks different. For not the first time, he begrudges his own youth, his own inexperience, his own jaded innocence. His mother had taught him a great many things. And shielded him from a great many others.

"What..." He takes a step closer, then another, moving instinctively toward Derek's strength, his solidity. "What am I like? Am I a good man?" He _needs_ to know this. "Am I worth following?" _Am I worth loving?_

God, he's beautiful. It's nice to see John, albeit younger, in the brighter sunlight. That face, those eyes. It haunted him for the longest time when he first got here. Now it haunts him in a different way. Seeing John, being with John this close but not able to _be_ with him the way Derek knows it should be. It eats him up inside. He's always wanted to tell him. But now the secret's out. Nothing left to lose.

Derek takes that last step separating them and again, they are face to face, so close that he can feel John's heat, his breath against his skin, John's blood rushing in his veins. "You were fair. Just. Honest. You're a good man, John. You have a heart. Always did." It's that sideways smile again before Derek, unable to help it any longer, reaches out to cradle John's face in his large, calloused hands, his thumbs caressing his cheeks. "And that's worth it. _You're_ worth it." Derek is a hair's breadth away when he adds in a whisper. "I'm going to kiss you again. This is your only chance to tell me to stop." His heart beats hard in his chest.

Going stiff for a moment, John knows he has the moment. He also knows Derek will respect it if he says no. _Derek_ is a good man. But, with what he's learned, with how, too, Derek looks at him, and how he feels when Derek looks at him . He loved-- will love-- Derek. And he'll send him to the past. Perhaps then it will make sense. In the meantime, he shakes his head, but not to say 'no,' or 'stop.' "No one can know," he whispers. Then it's his turn to close the distance.  



End file.
